


the pleasures of giving and receiving

by bajabastard



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Aftercare, Blood, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Bondage, Enthusiastic Consent, Gags, Gore, Hurt/Comfort, Inappropriately Timed Flirting, Knives, Light BDSM, M/M, Other, Pain, Painplay, Praise Kink, Probably ooc, Self-Insert, Surgery, Vivisection, consensual vivisection, gender neutral reader character, male reader character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 09:04:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14849837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bajabastard/pseuds/bajabastard
Summary: The red plague is back in Vesuvia. Julian can find a cure, but there's something he'll need first, and there's only one person who can give it to him.Alt title: Vivisection for Fun and Pleasure(Please mind the tags, if that kind of stuff is a trigger or a squick for you, I don't think it would be a good idea to read this)





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> [Y/N] is short for [your name]. if you want to actually have it say your name you can get this (https://goo.gl/pXFRdY) extension (chrome only i think) and just replace [Y/N] with whatever you want it to be. 
> 
> for the first two parts the readers gender isn't mentioned, for the last if you'd like to change it just use the extension and change 'boy' to 'girl' or 'enby' or whatever. 
> 
> ive ignored parts of canon. also anesthetic doesnt exist :3c 
> 
> also warning for me super over dramatizing pain. look i just wanna write my torture porn im not here for realism okay

There was no more denying it, no more hoping that the steadily growing body count was anything but what it was: The plague. The red plague was back in Vesuvia. And, because of course he did, Julian, your beautiful, self-sacrificial, idiot, had shouldered the blame for its resurgence solely on himself. No protests from you or anyone else could sway him, well reasoned arguments, emotional pleas, desperate requests for him to just get some sleep, all rolled off of him like water off a duck’s back.

  
It had been over a week since the first plague victim had been discovered, and you don’t think Julian has gotten more than a few hours of sleep since then. At first he was hopeful, excited even, as he rushed to reassemble his cure, but as it became more and more obvious that something about the cure was wrong, just ever so slightly off, his anxiety grew exponentially.

  
He worked 24/7, barely stopping to eat, and only sleeping when he was physically unable to keep his eyes open. You couldn’t stand it. To watch your beloved work himself to death was killing you, you had to do something, anything, to help him. Every time you had descended into the dungeon to offer your assistance, or even just your company, he had kicked you out, out of concern for your safety.

  
Today you had had enough. You were going to help him somehow goddamnit, even if it meant bodily dragging him to bed. You step into the cage and push the lever, a cacophony of screeching metal your only company as you descend into the dungeon.

  
Unlike when you had first seen it, the dungeon is brightly lit by torches scattered about the room, and broken jars and cobwebs had been replaced with bottles of brightly colored liquids, some simmering over flames. The air is so heavy with a harsh chemical scent that you can almost taste it, it burns in your throat, making you cough. That, and somehow not the shrieking grind of the machinery, is what catches Julian’s attention.

  
He’s covered from head to toe with questionable substances from his experimenting and even through the thick glass of his goggles you can see the bags under his eyes and the bloodshot color of his normal eye.

  
“[Y/N]! Wha-what are you doing here?” He carefully makes his way through a maze of desks and tables to where you stand. He reaches out to touch you but, realizing that his gloves are absolutely coated with god knows what, thinks better of it. “You shouldn’t be here, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  
“And I don’t want you to work yourself to death!” You retort. “Please Julian let me help you, at least let me give you some company, you’ve been alone for too long.”

  
“I don’t- I’m working with dangerous stuff in here it’s not safe for you.” He argues.

  
“And you’re what, immune to it all? If you can be here, I will be too. End of story.” You square your shoulders and plant your feet on the dust covered stone floor. Julian looks like he’s about to quarrel but you cut him off. “Please baby,” You say, meeting his eyes and gently caressing his cheek. “I’ve missed you.”

  
That breaks his resolve. “I’ve missed you too [Y/N].” He said, letting some of the tension leave his posture. “I-I could use some company.”

  
You smile at him and sit on an unused desk as he resumes his work. Before long he starts talking to you, narrating what he’s doing or just voicing his worries.  
“We know the plague targets neurons, both of the brain and elsewhere in the body, and we know it kills by breaking them down, making the victim’s body unable to communicate with itself, leaving the body in total stasis. That means no blood flowing anywhere, then it’s just a matter of time until their brain shuts down and they die.” He winces slightly. “It’s… not a pleasant way to go.

  
“I’ve been able to partially stop it, in petri dishes at least, but the cure itself causes a problem, it starts shutting down non-infected cells, which ends up being almost as fatal as the plague itself.” He runs a hand though his already disheveled hair as he watches one of his concoctions slowly shift colors. “I could isolate exactly what’s causing the problem, but to do that I would… I would need to study an actual body.” He glances around at the tables with thick restraining straps, it’s clear why he doesn’t want to do that.

  
“Well if its a body you need, we have plenty of those. Unfortunately.” You say, grimacing slightly. The plague victims have started dropping like flies and there are almost more bodies than the city can deal with, soon there will be.

  
“There are… Two problems with that. One, I actually need a non infected subject, I’m testing the cure specifically and the plague just adds in another variable that would be very hard and time consuming to factor out.” He pauses and you wonder what the problem is, there are still people dying of other things too, just because there’s a plague doesn’t mean accidents, old age, and murder stop happening. “And two… the subject needs to be alive in order for me to actually see the effects of what I’m doing.”

  
Oh. That’s the problem. “Would the subject survive?”

  
He frowns at you, slightly confused. “Yes, it’s not incredibly invasive and once I can see what’s happening I will almost certainly be able to understand what’s happening and reverse the effects of the cure before any significant damage occurs. I couldn’t though…” He trails off, clearly remembering the days he spent in this dungeon long ago. “I never… did it myself but I heard the screams of the vivisection subjects, I won’t ever put an unwilling victim though that. Never again.”

  
You pause, weighing the decision for a moment. You come to your conclusion surprisingly easily. “I volunteer.”

  
“You- you what?!? What!” He sputters, totally caught off guard.

  
“I volunteer to be your test subject. You said you’d never put an unwilling person through that again, well you don’t have to. I’m willing. I consent, do whatever it is you need to do on me.” You’re surprisingly calm about this. You want a cure to the plague as badly as him but more than that you trust him. If Julian says that it won’t be life threatening than you believe him.

  
He’s still staring at you in shock, his jaw is actually hanging slightly open. “I- no. No way. Absolutely not.”

  
You get off of your seat and walk over to him, closing the distance with confidant strides. “Julian, I can see how badly you need to find the cure. How badly the whole city needs it. And I need you back, I can’t just stand back and let you work yourself to death. Let me help you, let me do this for you.”

  
“No, I- no.” His protests are weaker this time, you can see the conflict happening behind his eyes. “I can’t hurt you like that.”

  
“You said yourself, I won't be in danger. I’ll be fine. The victims of the plague won’t be.” You reason. “I don’t want to force you but this really is a matter of life and death.”  
He stares at you, unable to respond.

  
“I trust you love, you can do this.” You lean into his slender form, not even caring about what might get on you. He wraps his arms around you and gently presses a kiss onto the top of your head.

  
“Are you sure about this [Y/N]?” His voice wavers and you can tell he’s starting to agree.

  
“I would do anything for you, and for this city.” From where your head rests against his chest you can hear the beating of his heart, a steady, unwavering drumbeat.

  
His voice is a whisper so quiet you almost miss it, it’s just a soft breath given shape as it brushes against your hair. “Okay.”


	2. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is where all the gore is. just letting you know.

The two of you decide to go through with it the next morning, and finally, for the first time in what feels like decades, but is probably closer to a week, you sleep by his side. Your smaller form is curled into him, hands twined in his shirt. He falls asleep before you but the gentle rhythm of his breathing calms you, and soon after you find yourself drifting off to sleep.

 

You wake up to the feeling of his hand caressing your cheek. “[Y/N]…” He smiles at you, but with none of his usual bravado and you can see the anxiety in his eyes. “Are- are you still okay with this? If you’re not totally sure I won’t do it, I don’t want to make you-”

“Yes.” You turn your head and kiss the palm of his hand. “Let’s do it.” You give him what you hope is a reassuring smile and he nods.

Even as you head down into the dungeon, cramped in the small metal cage and surrounded by shrieking metal your resolve never wavers. You know you’re doing the right thing.

When you enter the dungeon Julian hands you a cloth to wrap around your waist and instructs you to take your clothes off.

“Anything for you baby.” You respond, winking at him. He blushes, and his blush only deepens as you decide to strip in front of him, and not behind the screen he provided.

The flirtatious mood is mostly killed as he leads you to the operating table. He has clearly cleaned it and it is now free of stains, blood or otherwise. That does nothing to detract from the intimidating aura given off by thick leather restraints anchored to it.  

He helps you onto the table, kissing your bare skin whenever he gets the chance. “I’m… going to need to strap you down, if I don’t you might move and I could hurt you badly.” He looks apologetic.

“Well I’ve always kind of wanted you to tie me up, this isn’t quite how I expected it to go though.” You tease him, hoping to relieve some of his tension.

His blush from before had only just faded away, only to return in full force. “I- uh.” He coughs slightly and continues buckling down the restraints. “Tell me if these are too tight, they need to hold you in place but I don’t want them to cut off circulation.”

He finishes with the restraints and he gets to business. “I’m going to need to make an incision here.” he says, tracing a line down the left side of your abdomen, about level with your belly button. “I need to test this on neurons but brain surgery would be… Highly inadvisable for multiple reasons. Thankfully there’s also a relatively high concentration of neurons in parts of your digestive system, which is much easier, and safer, to access.”

He pulls out a couple of things from the pocket of the apron he’s wearing and leans over your head. “I’m going to have to gag you, you’ll likely end up biting your tongue off if I don’t.” He winces slightly at that, holding the gag above your mouth. “This is your last chance to back out, are you still okay with this?” His worried eyes meet yours.

“I am.” You’re surprised that your voice doesn’t shake, your nerves are starting to get to you, but you can’t let that show.

He nods slightly. “Okay. Oh, one last thing before I’ll need to gag you, I can uh. Blindfold you as well. I don’t know if you want to see what I’ll be doing or-”

“I do. I want to see.” It’s partially your curiosity, partially something else that makes you say that. An image of the way Julian’s hands look as he’s working flashes in your mind. Ah, that’s the other thing.

He gives you a curious look as he uses one finger of his gloved hand to tap on your lips. You open your mouth obediently and he gags you and ties it behind your head, tightly but not roughly. Then he surprises you by kissing your cheek.

He moves to your side and pulls a scalpel out of another pocket in the protective leather apron he’s wearing. The tip of it rests gently on your skin. “Ready?” You nod as best as you able, and he presses down.

It takes a moment for the pain to hit you, in that moment you barely feel anything, it’s like the prick of a needle or like the gentle pressure of a finger running down your skin. You think that this might not be so bad, that you can deal with this. The thought barely finishes when you feel it.

The agony hits you like a wave of bricks. At first you can’t even tell where it’s coming from, it wracks your entire body, like the shock you get when you fall in a dream and wake up, only now you don’t wake up. It feels like your heart has stopped beating in your chest, like you’ve been removed from your body entirely. You’re a being of pure feeling and you feel nothing but pain, sharp, stabbing pain.  

Slowly you feel yourself coming back to your body, the feeling condenses down to your abdomen, pulling in closer and closer to the source. It doesn’t diminish, it just becomes more concentrated. In the periphery of your mind you become aware of the rest of your body, how your muscles are spasming, limbs futilely straining against their bonds.

The blade of the scalpel feels like ice and fire at the same time, burning and freezing. You try to scream but the gag stops you and instead you make a noise that sounds like a muffled sob. The incision he makes isn’t long but it feels like an eternity as he cuts you, you can feel nothing, know nothing but the acute pain radiating from the tip of his blade as it drags along your skin, flesh parting before it like butter.

Ice shoots through your veins as lava bubbles through the cut. Ice picks hammer into your brain relentlessly, eradicating any thoughts besides how to make it stop, oh god please make it stop- I can’t- oh god-

For a moment everything goes away, you fall into a pitch black void where you feel no pain, only ice and nothingness. It’s like drowning, peaceful and quiet. But all too soon you are pulled back into life, the perfect quiet is replaced with the screaming feeling of the blade parting your skin. It feels like the screeching of the lift sounds, rusty metal replaced with the rusty red blood you begin to feel spilling out of the wound.

A different sort of pain hits you, your lungs are burning for air. As you breathe you come back to yourself, he’s finished cutting and the pain has started to abate, you still feel how it radiates from the wound and washes over you like a wave, but you start to be able to form semi-coherent thoughts again.

One of the first things you notice is that your face is wet, tear tracks fan out around your eyes and saliva runs unpleasantly from the corners of your open mouth. You blink a couple of times to clear the stagnant tears in your eyes and the stone ceiling comes into focus, a chandelier hangs above you holding lit torches that illuminate the room. You look down to where you can feel the blood spilling over your side and you see Julian.

His face is turned down and you can see the stiffness in his neck and shoulders, he’s straining to keep focused, to ignore your muffled cries of pain. Oddly enough, even though you can’t see most of his face your first thought is how beautiful he is, after the burning wave of pain he is sweet, cool, relief. Julian is here. You can do this. You can do this for him.

The second thing you notice is that his hands are inside of you. You could tell when he stopped cutting but this new development catches you totally off guard, you couldn’t feel that happening at all. It’s only now that the strange sensation begins to register.

It’s unpleasant but not that painful, more than anything else though it’s just weird. It burns where his fingers brush against the edges of the wound but beyond that the feelings are hard to discern, you can kind of feel him moving inside you but you have no idea what he’s doing.

As your body slowly relaxes and stops trying to pull free of the restraints Julian notices and glances up at you. He pauses what he’s doing. “If you want I can take the gag out for a bit. I’ll probably have to put it back in when I stitch you back up though.”

You nod slightly, it’s starting to dig into the corners of your mouth, and you think that at least for the moment you’re in control enough to not accidentally bite your tongue off.

He gets up from the stool he had positioned at your side and comes over, carefully lifting up your head with one hand and untying it with the other. He only realizes that his hands are covered in blood after the fact.

As the gag is removed from your mouth you gasp for breath and cough slightly. “Hey.” Your voice comes out shaky and weak, your throat raw from screaming. You smile slightly as you look into your lover’s eyes. It might just be the pain making you a bit delirious but you can’t help but think that he’s the most beautiful thing you’ve seen in your entire life.

You judge from his sudden blush that you may have done more than think that. “[Y/N]… How are you holding up?” He asks as he goes back to his spot at your side. His eyes turn back to the site of the incision but you can tell his attention is still partly on you.

“Well I’m not dead.” You manage to say, though you can tell that your words are slightly slurred. He momentarily shoots you a worried glance, then goes back to messing around with your insides. You cast around for something, anything to say to distract yourself from the burning wound in your side and you feel a laugh bubble up in your chest . “I- I always wanted to have you inside me but this wasn’t quite how I pictured it.”

Julian stays focused on his task but you can see his face turn red, for what feels like the hundredth time today. “[Y/N]!” You can hear his smirk in his voice. “If you keep distracting me I’ll have to gag you again.” He gets serious for a moment. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

You fall silent, watching him work, and occasionally closing your eyes when the pain starts to get to you. When you open them again you see Julian holding some sort of pinkish rope.

It takes your brain a second to process the fact that it’s coming from inside of you. “Is that…” You feel slightly sick.

“Your intestine.” Julian finishes for you.

“I can’t feel it. That’s so weird.” It is in fact, so weird that a giggle starts to well up in your chest. You don’t know why but the sight of Julian holding your intestines is suddenly hilarious.

Julian looks up at you, startled. “[Y/N]? Are you okay?” He pauses. “Do you feel lightheaded? Dizzy?”

Your head feels like it’s been emptied then repurposed as an aquarium. “Uh…. Yeah. Both.”

“Shit, I need to hurry, you’re not losing a lot of blood but I don’t want to push it. I want you to keep talking to me okay?” As he talks he pulls a wheeled cart closer and starts using a pipette to draw from the vials on it.

“Mmh. Yeah. Uh.” Your mind whirls for something reasonable to talk about, currently the only things you can think of are how hot Julian is and, now that you’re thinking about it, this whole situation is weirdly arousing as well, the way he has you totally immobile and at his mercy, the way his slender hands, spider-like in their black gloves, move, deftly picking up instruments and manipulating your internal organs. Or rather, currently external organs.

As you finish that last bit you realize that blood loss and debilitating pain seem to have seriously lowered your filter because you just said that. Out loud. To Julian.

Julian doesn’t respond, instead focusing intently on what he’s doing, for a second you start worrying, what if that made him uncomfortable? Uncomfortable enough to leave you even? What if-

Your train of thought is cut off by his victorious yell. “Yes! Oh my god, [Y/N], its working, I did it!” He grins up at you, and his smile is bright enough to light up the room. “I really did it, there’s a cure!”

Your anxieties about the dumb stuff you said fade away and you can feel yourself start to tear up, this is going to mean amazing things for the city, so many people are going to be saved. But more importantly, “I’m so proud of you, I knew you could do it.”

He’s getting misty eyed himself but he pulls himself back into the moment. “Lets celebrate more later, when you don’t have a gaping hole in your stomach.”

Yes… That. That’s still a thing. He continues. “Because of the way the cure works I can’t transfer this wound to myself, well I could, but there’s a relatively high chance that it would remove half of the chemical equation that makes up the cure and leave you with the part that would keep destroying your cells. So unfortunately I’m going to have to do this the old fashioned way.” He pulls out a curved needle and a spool of silk thread. “This is going to hurt, I’m sorry. If there was an easier way to do this I would but…” He trails off. “I’m going to have to gag you again.” He winces apologetically as he says that.

“It’s okay, I’m sure I can take it. Ha, what would have hurt more is if you heard some of what I was rambling earlier, I think you were too distracted by finding the cure and you didn’t notice.” You think you’re probably rambling again but the dull ache that seems to permeate your entire being makes it hard to care.  

He lifts one eyebrow and smirks mischievously. “Oh that? No I definitely heard that. I’ll be filing that away for later use.”

You feel like your entire face is on fire. You open your mouth to respond but he just takes it as an opportunity to gag you again. “Let’s get down to business, shall we?”

He threads the needle carefully and rests the point at the tip of my incision. “I’d like to apologize in advance, this is going to hurt.”

You can’t imagine it hurting worse than the cut earlier, can it?

The answer you find out a moment later is that, yes, it can in fact hurt more than earlier. A lot more.

The original incision hurt but at least that was a constant pain, a single straight cut and then it was done. This is nothing like that, the initial pricking of the needle isn’t what bothers you, it’s the way it sinks down into you, the way you can acutely feel the thickness of the needle as it stretches your already hurting flesh.

It glides through you smoothly, and yet even the minute way that it’s polished surface drags at your flesh, burns. The feeling of it breaking through the other side of your skin in reverse feels painfully unnatural, it’s one thing to have something stabbed into you, and another entirely to feel something stabbing you from the inside out.

As the needle pulls though Julian pauses for a moment and you have a chance to catch your breath. You can feel bruises forming all over your body where the restraints dig into you and the dull ache in your abdomen is inescapable, every time it’s touched or jostled you can feel everything that happened to it again, a perfect reenactment of the agony flashing through you at lightning speed, making your heart skip a beat and cold sweat roll down your skin.

The tying of the thread is almost as bad, it tugs at your skin, worming into you like a heated wire, singing wherever it touches. It feels like a knife pressing into your skin, threatening to cut if you make a move. You can feel everything his hands do as he knots the stitch, every minute shake, every steady tug of the thread.

And then it repeats. You don’t know how many stitches you’ve had or how long it’s been, all you can focus on is futilely trying to brace yourself, the stop and go nature of the work gives you breaks, but all they serve to do is highlight the resurgence of pain when the needle digs back into your flesh yet again.

At some point it all becomes too much. The pain, yes, but also the exhaustion of crying, shouting, your body’s endless struggle to get you away from this. You’re completely drained, you’ve cried all the tears your body will give, sobbed until your voice was raw, and then gone, and your muscles feel like jelly.

Every prick of the needle, every stab of pain that runs through you pushes you closer and closer to the edge. You can’t even struggle, you’re an apathetic bystander to your own suffering.

You watch, seemingly in third person, as you finally tip over the edge, blacking out. You see your body go limp as your mind fades with it into oblivion.


	3. III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the comfort part of the hurt/comfort. Dom/sub undertones.

Some time later, it could have been seconds or centuries, you find yourself coming back to consciousness in a cocoon of blankets and pillows. You pull a blanket up to your face, breathing in the familiar scents of wool, lavender, and something distinctly Julian.

  
Julian. Where is he? Your eyes snap open and you scan the room for him, it’s dim, only lit by a single candle on the desk, but even in the low light you can tell you’re the only person in the room. For some reason you start to panic, logically you know you’re safe here, and Julian would never leave you alone if he thought it might endanger you, but the lack of his presence feels like a rug pulled out from under you.

  
You’re only left to worry for a moment more, then the door cracks open, golden light spilling in. You shut your eyes, adjusted to the darkness the sudden light is painful, and when you open them again you see the form of your lover standing over you.

  
You meet his eyes and he gives you a tender smile. “[Y/N], you’re awake, how are you feeling?” He speaks in a hushed tone, calm and patient.

  
You go to speak but you find your throat too dry to do anything but pitifully rasp. Julian notices and helps you sit up, then hands you a glass of water. The movement is a sudden reminder of the still fresh cut on your abdomen and you let out a hiss of pain before accepting the water.

  
You drain the glass in seconds and are left feeling much better. You breathe slowly, in and out, in and out, centering yourself, before you speak. “I’m better now that you’re here.” You say, really meaning it. The moment he stepped in the room the cold leaden feeling of dread in your stomach was replaced with the gentle warm glow of relief.

  
“I’m glad.” Julian gently caresses your face. “I’m sorry I had to leave, Nadia summoned doctors from all over the city and I had to show them how to make and administer the cure.” He pauses to kiss your forehead. “They’re going to save so many people, you saved so many people [Y/N]. I’m so proud of you.”

  
You laugh softly. “Me? You were the one doing all the work, I was just the convenient flesh bag.”

  
He looks down at you, brow furrowing, then he moves over you and carefully straddles your lap, avoiding touching anywhere near your injury. You look up at him in shock and he meets your gaze, expression intense but unreadable.

  
He brings both of his hands up to cup your face and his brow softens. “That’s not true. What you did wasn’t easy.” He pauses to kiss your forehead. “I appreciate you so so much and-” He breathes out a shaky breath. “And I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  
You interrupt him, frowning slightly. “You could have done it on anyone though, I’m not special.”

  
He looks… Almost sad. His voice is a strained whisper when he talks. “No. I needed you. I am slow to trust, and for most people even harder to be trusted. But not for you [Y/N], you’ve trusted me since the beginning and in return I- I felt the same. I trust you, totally and completely. You’re the only person who could tell me that you’re okay with being experimented on like that and who I would trust to know they’re being truthful.” His eyes gaze into yours and you think you can see the beginnings of tears forming in them. Your faces are close, so close your noses almost touch but you’re frozen, you mind whirling with what he just said to you.

  
He pauses for a moment then gently wraps his hand around the nape of his neck. “I love you [Y/N].” And then he closes the distance between you with a kiss.

  
His lips are soft, they always are, and having him here in your arms like this always brings you comfort but his words are new. As you kiss him your mind echoes them over and over again, that’s the first time either of you have said that. You break the kiss and meet his eyes, he looks nervous, like he doesn’t know how you’re going to react.  
“I love you too Julian, of course I do.” You smile up at him and his responding grin lights up the room. He excitedly wraps his arms around you to hug you but accidentally elbows near your wound in the process. You reassure him that you’re okay and then return the hug, holding him close to your body and breathing in the way he smells.  
Suddenly it strikes you that you’re home, here, safe in Julian’s arms, you are home.

  
He pulls you in again for a kiss and you melt against him, holding onto him as if you’re a ship on a stormy sea and he’s you only anchor. His hands roam the bare skin of your upper body and it fully registers with you that you’re shirtless.

  
Julian’s mouth drifts lower, gently peppering kisses over your neck and collarbones. Your fingers tangle in his hair and you gasp slightly at his touch, he’s being so soft and careful and something about it feels intensely intimate.

  
He pauses and looks up at you. “Oh and you know what else [Y/N]?” A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. “You were such a good boy today.”

  
Before you get a chance to respond he kisses you again, but you’re sure your face is bright red. After a moment he breaks away, one hand cupping your chin, the other petting your hair. “So good for me… I’m so proud of you.”

  
You couldn’t respond if you wanted to, instead you his stare into his eyes. He’s never said anything like that before and while you’re a little embarrassed you can’t help but soak up the attention.

  
“So brave, taking everything that you did, my perfect little prince.” He continues, his voice sultry and low, but still retaining and edge of tender sweetness.

  
You feel totally boneless, you feel so safe and comfortable. You curl around Julian, your head in his lap and he combs his hands through your hair as he continues to praise you.

  
Little scraps of what he’s saying filter in. “So good …. obedient, trusting … my beautiful boy.” You smile, soaking everything in, the warmth of his body, the coolness of his hands, the comforting tone of his voice, the gentle ache of pain that still clings to you, the softness of the blankets and Julian’s clothing.

  
You can feel yourself drifting off to sleep and are distantly aware of Julian gently moving your head onto a pillow, getting into bed beside you and pulling the covers over the both of you. The last thing you remember before falling into a deep, peaceful sleep is Julian’s voice, softly whispering. “I love you [Y/N], sleep well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaaand thats all folks. i hope you enjoyed it. im open to constructive criticism or any other feedback you might have.


End file.
